The Circle
by DraconicalPriest
Summary: This is a story of Harry Potter as a Multiple Personality, currently has a bit of child abuse and weirdness. I'm back. It's been over a year, but I'm back up and running. With more ideas, and a better idea of where to go.
1. Fractured: The Prologue

THE CIRCLE 

**F~R~A~C~T~U~R~E~D: **The Prologue

By DraconicalPriest

Rated R: for Rather Disturbing Content both now and in the future.

Disclaimer:  I own nothing.  Well, a bit of a plot… but nothing else.

Pairings:  None as of yet, or for a while.  Eventually there may be HP/DM, or incidents and crushes with Snape, Cho Chang, or others.

Click.

Click.

Click.

I step slowly and deliberately through the kitchen of this disgustingly cheerful house, my boot heels clicking softly on the faded yellow linoleum.  A slight sneer tugs at the corner of my lips.  My task here tonight is almost finished.  

The parents didn't offer much of a fight, this time.  The father, begging me to spare his wife, his child.  Too horrified to cast more than a simple and ineffectual Expelliarmus or two… pitiful really, and rather disappointing.  Not what I expected from his reputation, or his irksome ambushes of my followers.  I left his corpse not three feet from the front door.  Then the mudblood mother ran out from the kitchen, and fell to her knees on the floor, begging me to leave their son alive.  "_Please, not Harry!  Anything, but don't kill Harry!"  _Her body is still there now, slumped over where she knelt, with blood trickling from her mouth and her green eyes glazed in terror and hate.

Click.

Click.

Ah.  There it is…  How amusing.  Apparently she thought to hide him in one of the kitchen cupboards.  Completely futile, of course.  Even if I couldn't hear the loathsome brat's terrified panting and whimpering, it has cracked open the door anyway, and I can see its eyes in the gloom of the partly opened cubbyhole.  _Almost spooky, really, they way they almost glow green.  Like a cat.  _I muse absentmindedly as I step around the pitted wooden table with a bright yellow-checked tablecloth inthe middle of the floor.  _Let's just wrap this up, and get on back to the mansion.  A clean sweep, now…_

"Come here, little one."  I say, and it hangs quietly in the air of the kitchen.  "Come out now child, and join your parents."  My voice hangs in the air, curling and weaving like smoke in the wind.  It beckons and hypnotizes the small child like a snake swaying before a hapless mouse.  Slowly, a tiny hand reaches out of the dark cupboard, and pushes the cabinet door all the way open.  It grips the handle, holding on for support as the tiny dark-haired boy drags himself upward, to stand tremblingly before me.

I smirk at the child and aim my wand.  _Too easy… simply pitiful_ my thoughts murmur.   "You'll never even know why.  None of them will."  It amuses me, and my smirk widens.

I look straight into those confused and terrified green eyes, and whisper it. "_Avada Kedavra."_  

.

.

.

The green light speeds toward the child, and then seems to slow as it approaches him.  A bright white light suddenly surrounds the boy in the shape of a globe, and the curse strikes this instead of his body.  There is absolute silence for a split second that stretches into an eternity.

The clear white globe seems to absorb the curse, _pulsing_ a bright emerald.  Green eyes flash unbearably bright, and a ragged cut appears on the child's forehead where the curse just struck.  It is like a tear on the surface, echoing the deeper fractures below.  The clear, unformed orb of the baby's soul cracks, then shatters into a hundred pieces.  Like crystal shards, they fly through the air.  At least half immediately go dark, the remaining are united in an unearthly wail of agony, echoing through the destroyed house.  

Then the shards speed back together and reform a globe.  This orb is fractured and imperfect now though, and then again it _pulses_ green.  A haze gathers around the child, as if the curse simply fell into him before, and is now being ejected again.  The green light rebounds and streaks back toward the dark lord.  His eyes have widened, but he has no time for anything else before it hits and sends his twisted soul screaming into the dark.  The dark lord's skin swiftly shrivels up and sinks in toward his bones.  The skeletal figure remains standing for a gruesome, soulless instant, then silently crumbles into dust on the floor.

The orb of light surrounding the youngling flickers and then vanishes back into him.  A tiny breeze creeps into the room, and stirs the pile of black dust lying beside the cheerfully decorated table.  The boy blinks once, then twice, then crumples and falls against the cabinets. 

Nothing remains now but a wailing child and his dead parents in the dust and rubble of a destroyed home.

A/N: Don't worry, it won't all be this dark.  This is a tale of a split personality, a condition known as Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD), and some of those personalities aren't in the least dark.  The first chapter should be up within a day or two, disregarding acts of Eris, as I've already got at least the first 6 chapters outlined and the personalities mapped.  'Till then, be at peace, and please review 'cause it makes me feel better.


	2. Circling the Dursley's: Chapter One, pa...

Circling the Dursley's :  Chapter One, part one.

By DraconicalPriest

Disclaimer:  I own nothing of Harry Potter.  This little bit of fiction is none of mine save for it's vague claim to a plot, and the actual wording of it.

Rating:  R, upon general principle, and for future plans involving slashiness

Pairing:  Possibly eventual HP/SS or HP/DM…. Who knows what might yet occur?  Well, actually I do, but I'm not telling. ^_^

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**Another New Beginning….**

A historic event was about to appear on a quiet little street in the middle of the respectable middle-class suburb of Little Whinging.  It had just been introduced to the scene a few minutes ago, and in less than an hour would be taking up residence in number four, Privet Drive.  It was an event of world-wide significance; it would be written up in history books and spoken of around the world for years to come.  It was a surprisingly quiet historic event.  Very, very quiet indeed, which was a good thing, as it was not quite six in the morning, shortly before the milkman's run and no one on this quiet little street would appreciate being woken up so early by a noisy historic event.  

The historic event was laying bundled up in a blue blanket in a small basket with an attached parchment note covered in flowing purple script.  It also happened to be sitting squarely on Vernon Dursley's doorstep, just next to the milk bottles, and that was a very poor place for noisy historic events.  In fact, it was a very poor place for events of anything besides complete normality.  Mr. Dursley didn't approve of unusual things, and that included great historic events.

Unfortunately the little black-haired, green-eyed historic event in question was anything but normal, and very shortly this would prove to make it very unpopular with Mr. Vernon Dursley.  Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had come to number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.  He would go down in history for having defeated the dark lord Voldemort, but even historic events need to live somewhere.  And this particular wizarding miracle was now sitting on the doorstep of his only remaining relatives, the very ordinary Muggles, Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their bouncing baby boy, Dudley Dursley.

In that last quiet moment, there was no one around to see the little baby stir and calmly open his eyes.  The old man who had left him and written the note was gone, as was a certain suspicious looking cat which had been overseeing the proceedings, and the overly large man on a motorcycle who had brought the bundled baby to the house.  Now there was none to note the tranquil gaze with which Harry looked at the door of his new home.  No one was there to see his eyes wave in color, their bright green shifting to black and back to green.

            No one was there, until Petunia opened the door to put out her milk bottles and shrieked loudly enough to wake the dead.  The black-haired baby observed the ensuing hysterics, still quiet even when his basket was plunked down on the floor near Dudley and was promptly kicked sharply by him, in a rather disinterested establishment of the pecking order in the Dursley household.

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**At the Dursley's….**

The Dursley's never got over their distress at the newcomer's presence.  They didn't appreciate having the Potter boy dumped on them, and they worried that he was just as abnormal as his parents.  For the first few months they ignored him as much as possible and kept him in a cupboard to keep him from inflicting whatever aberrations he possessed on their precious Dudley.  He was taken out to be fed, watered, and cleaned.  The last was usually a rather painful affair, involving cold water and a harsh scrub brush, carelessly applied by Petunia as she talked on the phone or watched the neighbors through the window.  

After the first half year or so in Harry's new home, Petunia cared for him with a kind of disdainful irritation when Vernon was present, and irritated resignation when he was not.  He was still her sister's son, and too young to be much of a nuisance.  As long as he was kept out of the way, and didn't cause any problems, she wouldn't go out of her way either for him or against him.  Therefore he was fed when Dudley was (usually the leftovers, if any), let out to crawl around on the floor sometimes when Dudley was in the play area with his new toys, cleaned when he smelled bad (Vernon didn't really approve of her taking such care of him, but she simply _wouldn't_ have a shitty little boy stinking up her perfect house), and even let outside to play in the backyard when he was making too much noise in the cupboard.  As long as he smelled all right, Dudley wasn't bothered by him, and she didn't have to exert herself unnecessarily, she didn't particularly care what the brat was up to.

It wasn't so odd, then, that no one noticed the changes that Harry sometimes underwent.  He never spoke or babbled, but was usually fairly pleasant, not kicking or screaming like Dudley.  Sometimes though, when Petunia would shove him outside or into the cupboard in exasperation, or give him the mushy leftovers from Dudley's breakfast, he would…change.  His eyes darkened to black, his hair often would lie flat, instead of remaining in its usual flyaway mess.  His young face would settle into an impassive, yet somehow dangerous looking mask.

The first time Petunia noticed this was on Dudley's third birthday.  She had been having a horrible morning, and was completely stressed out.  The humongous chocolate birthday cake had fallen in the oven, and the one she whipped up to replace it wasn't big enough for her little Duddley-kins big day.  Two of the neighbor boys Dudley had invited over had fallen ill and couldn't come to the party, and now her baby was heartbroken.  He had actually screamed at her, shouting that she'd ruined his birthday party, and she'd finally had to ask him to go into the living room and unwrap one of his presents to play with for a while.  When she turned back to the pile of party food she'd been prepared, she noticed the brat standing in the shadowy corner of the kitchen.  Thinking that he could at least stir himself about and be a bit of help for once, she'd snapped at him.

"Boy!  Go get the party hats and streamers from the hall closet!  Then come back in here and set out these cupcakes while I decorate the living room."  She turned back, expecting that he'd go do as she said.  He usually did, unless she told him to do something he didn't understand, which was rare.  She distractedly wondered why he never talked when he obviously could understand what people said to him.  Suddenly she looked up and noticed that he hadn't gone to get the party supplies yet.  Aggravated, she stalked over to him, about to repeat her request, when she noticed something…different about the brat.  He seemed to be almost smirking, with his chin tucked in and his eyes peering downward at the floor.  He was quite clearly ignoring her, and looked… almost maliciously amused by something.

Slightly uncertain, she tried again, "Boy I told you…."  She broke off in shock as Harry suddenly looked up, gazing straight into her eyes.  Absently she noticed his hair seemed to be much lighter than usual, and his eyes… weren't they usually that annoying green her sister's had been?  She was sure that the brat usually had messy black hair, and was pretty sure on the green eyes, but now… now they were blue.  His hair was very light brown, almost blond, and his eyes were completely blue, shining like the sky.  And that smirk was still on his lips.  Her thoughts completely scattered then, as Harry spoke to her for the first time in his life.

"I heard you the first time, silly woman!  I was just thinking.  Wouldn't it be _amusing_ if we had snakes instead of streamers this time?"  The witchy child, still smirking then raised his hand and gracefully gestured to the hall closet.  While Petunia looked on in shock and disbelief, the door to the hall closet suddenly swung open and long, skinny, blue and green snakes started slithering out into the hall and kitchen.

_Odd_, Petunia thought as the world began to go dark around her, _those are exactly the colors of the streamers I bought yesterday…_

The first thing Petunia was aware of when she came to was Dudley screaming in the living room.  The second was that she was lying on the kitchen floor.  The third was that there was no sign of Harry or any snakes.  _Did I imagine that?  Why is Dudley yelling?  _She groaned then rolled to her back and got up unsteadily.  First things first.  She staggered into the living room as quickly as she could manage, only to find that Dudley had apparently sat on his new Transformer robot, breaking it and cutting his…leg.  The brat was hovering over Dudley, fretting and apparently trying to calm him down wordlessly, while Dudley swatted at him between shrieks.  The brat looked normal again, she noticed as she rushed over to her baby.  She quickly gathered him up into her lap and sat down with him on the couch as she leveled a cold glare at Harry.

"You!" she spat the words, "_What_ have you done to my Duddley-kins?!  Go to your cupboard, now.  And stay there.  And if I see a single _snake_ during the party, or _anything_ else _weird_, you are going to stay in there for a month!  And don't expect to be getting anything to eat, either!"

The brat had the nerve to look completely confused, almost hurt, as she accused him.  His brow wrinkled in an innocent-looking frown of bafflement, but he trudged over to the cupboard, and disappeared into it.

That night, after the party was finally over, she managed to tell her husband what she thought had happened.  His face grew more and more purple as she nervously told the story.  When she got to the part with the streamer-colored snakes he growled and marched into the hall, and wrenched open the door to the cupboard under the stairs.  He reached in and grabbed the sleeping raven-haired boy and dragged him out and into the kitchen.  He then proceeded to spank the boy as hard as he could, until his arm was too tired to continue.  By that time, the brat's shrieks had woken up Dudley, who stood watching at the top of the stairs with his mother.  When he finished he dragged the weeping boy back to the cupboard, threw him in, and managed to snarl, "Stay…cupboard…no food!"  He then slammed the door and locked it.

Behind him, in the cupboard, the boy slowly got to his knees, wincing as his bruised bottom touched his heels.  His tear-free black eyes glared at the cupboard door, and his face settled into an impassive coldness.  "Someday…" he whispered into the darkness.

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A/N:  Well, that's it for this part!  I plan to add some more scenes from Harry's childhood with the Dursley's, but this chapter was getting too long for me, and I wanted to upload it and get to sleep.  I'll continue, perhaps around age five, in part two of Chapter One.  I'll also start getting into Harry's viewpoints more and introduce the personalities as they develop. ^_^  For now though, I apologize for any errors or awkwardness in format.  I have no beta, and thus all errors are both my own and unexamined.  'Till next chapter, then!  

Oh, and while I only got one review, semi-warm, for the prologue, I didn't actually expect any so I'm rather pleased. ^_^  Now that I'm really getting started though, I'd appreciate some more reviews.  They are the only thing that can drag me from the exhausting hell that is accounting during tax season and force me to go ahead and finish and post more chapters.  So, review!   *blinks innocently*  Pretty please?


	3. Dizzying the Dursley's: Chapter One, par...

The Circle

Dizzying The Dursley's:

Chapter One, part two

By DraconicalPriest

Rating:  R, because this episode is brought to you by the letter R, and the number 5.

Pairing:  Possibly eventual HP/SS or HP/DM…. Maybe something with Cho, or maybe Cedric, or maybe something with a random butterfly.  Do you actually think I'd tell you at this point?  Yes?  Well…ok, I'll tell you that Snape will definitely be playing a part eventually.  What I don't know is if anyone, myself included, will be able to persuade him to participate in slash in this story.  

A/N:  In response to a few reviews… yes I do know a bit about MPD.  I've been fascinated by so-called coping disorders since… oh, about 5th grade or so. (Something many people don't realize is that MPD is NOT really a form of insanity like Schizophrenia, just a coping mechanism taken to extremes.  It involves a dissociation and reconstruction of the personality, not a distortion of the senses or mind.)  I've researched the scientific literature which can be a bit dry, but if you want a good non-fanfiction read about multiple personalities I do happen to have a few recommendations.  First on my list is a book called _When Rabbit Howls_.  It is actually written by a multiple personality.  They signed it "By The Troops for Truddi Chase", where The Troops is obviously what they refer to themselves as, and Truddi Chase is what everyone else calls her.  It is a truly fascinating, well-written, and more than a little disturbing book, and in my opinion a far better read than more acclaimed works such as _The Three Faces of Eve _or _Sybil._  (If you do decide to read _Sybil,_ however, I strongly urge you not to do so at night.  Or alone.  Or when you just happen to be in a fragile mental state.)

Disclaimer:  I own nothing of Harry Potter.  The only thing on this page that I own is the blood, and fortunately it's lost somewhere in the formatting or uploading.  

"There is nothing to writing; all you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." ~Red Smith

Now let's finally get this blood flowing….

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**The Season of Night….**

            On the afternoon of Harry's 5th birthday, he disappeared into a dark cloud for several hours.  He seemed to be literally surrounded by shadows as he sat unmoving in a corner of the kitchen.  This darkness was obviously more physical than was natural for a shadow; when Vernon Dursley attempted to force his way into it in order to grab the brat and punish him for flaunting such abnormality, he was forcibly ejected and hit the opposite wall with an astonishing crash.  The Dursley's retreated en masse to the living room, and desperately glared at the telly in a pretense that everything in their house was completely normal.  At five o'clock, when an affable looking Harry finally meandered into the living room, and quietly asked if they were going to eat dinner soon, Vernon instantly turned purple and exploded with rage.

            "How _dare_ you!  The nerve of you boy, I just can't believe it" he hissed, spluttering in anger.  "After that stunt you just pulled, you're lucky we don't just throw you out on the street!  You should be grateful that we took you in when your idiotic parents died, you miserable little orphan.  No one else would put up with this kind of crap, you'd be off to an orphanage before you could blink, you insolent brat!"

            Harry's green eyes grew wide with shock at Vernon's first words, and he cringed further into himself with every word following, wincing at the mention of his parent's death.  By the time Vernon spluttered into a red-faced silence, he was completely bowed and struggling to keep back tears.  He was still when Vernon gripped him painfully by the arm and dragged him over to the cupboard under the stairs, but when the door had slammed shut and the locks slammed home, he found his voice.  

"Uncle Vernon, why?" his quavering voice pleaded.  "I didn't do anything this time, honest!  I was being good, really!  What'd I do?  Uncle Vernon?"  He trailed off in confused pain when no answer but a distinct snort came after the long silence.  "Uncle?"  

The silence was broken only by the sound of Vernon's heavy tread moving back toward the living room.  The stunned boy slumped against the wall next to his mattress and closed his eyes.  He turned, as always, to the comforting quiet darkness of his own mind.  This time though, the calm dusk seemed cold and lonely.  His confused thoughts continued to run in frantic circles.

_I really didn't do anything, did I?  I remember sitting down in the corner watching Aunt Petunia cooking…and I sat there for a while.  The clock had the big hand on the five when I left.  That's dinner time, I _know_ that.  Why was Uncle Vernon so mad?  Did I fall asleep in the kitchen? Was I supposed to be helping Auntie cook and forgot?   Did I make something dirty and not notice?  What happened?  I just can't take this anymore…_

_There, there, child you didn't do anything wrong_  Suddenly a cool voice echoed in his mind.  Startled he looked up, jerking back and banging his head on the wall of the cupboard.  A couple of spiders fell onto his head, and he winced at the sudden throbbing knot on the back of his head.  No one was there, of course.  Not that anyone else would have fit into the cupboard with him.

Well, that was remarkably silly.  What in the world did you think you were going to see out there anyway, an elf?  Don't fret now, we're here.  The voice seemed almost comforting, in a biting sort of way.  Involuntarily, Harry's eyes fell shut again, and he suddenly found that he wasn't alone in the darkness.  The darkness felt almost…warm, and when he looked into it, he felt almost that he could see a pair of coal black eyes gazing back at him.   Y-y-you're, w-wh-what are you? He stammered rather nervously.  Are you a shadow? Or just eyes? 

            *No Harry, that's just The Dark One.  He's a bit of a pain, but he's a part of the group nonetheless.*

            Startled again, Harry whirled around and saw yet another person standing within the darkness of his mind.  This man seemed rather reassuringly normal though.  He was strong looking, and sturdy as a brick, with warm eyes of a dark jade and sleek brown hair.  His lips tipped upward in a tiny smile, apparently their habitual arrangement judging by the lines around his mouth and the crows-feet by his eyes.  Harry instantly trusted him, and felt a warm upwelling of love in his chest for the comforting man.  _Who are you, then? And will you tell me what's going on? _He asked gently, while sidling toward the man.  He rather wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, but he wasn't yet quite confident of the man's tenderness. 

**            ***Hmmm.  I suppose you can call me Guardian.  I think I may not have been here long, but that's what I'll do.  I'll Guard you and take care of you.  And don't you worry, just come on over here, love, I'll hold you*  His mouth quirked upward even more into a welcoming smile, and he knelt down with his arms open wide.  Harry caved in, and ran over to him, nestling into Guardian's embrace.

            _Will you just hold me?  I'm so tired… I don't think I want to go back anymore.  _

**_            *_**Of course I will Harry, and you don't have to go back anymore.  Just stay here now and rest*   Harry curled up against Guardian's side, and gave a peaceful sigh as his troubled eyes finally closed again.  

There was silence in the darkness for a long while, as Harry slept.  Finally Guardian looked up again at The Dark One, and admitted mournfully, *He really can't go on anymore.  I'm afraid… that he's broken too.  What can we do now?  None of them could pass, I must stay here, and you really ought to.  Did you truly have to do that shadow thing?  That's what made the uncle so mad, you know*

_Why, yes, I _did_ have to do that shadow thing.  I was practicing__.  _The shadows swirled halfheartedly, and the black eyes blinked, then looked down.  _I didn't really mean to stay there so long though…  _A lengthy pause grew and silence settled down around the three like an uncomfortable blanket.  Finally The Dark One, in an abashed tone spoke again.__

_Do you really think he can't go out again though?  I thought, since he was the last Born one left who could…  _He trailed off again, into an uneasy suspension.   

*No.  He really can't.  We'll have to do something else.  Could you come up with something?  Like, a… a mask or some such?  I know you're rather talented, even with things besides shadows.  Speaking of shadows…  Would you lose that blasted cloak of them?  The silly thing hurts my eyes to look at.*

The shadows stilled for moment, then the figure within them sighed and made an odd gesture.  The shadows swirled around him, then vanished into the less tangible darkness surrounding them.  The owner of those black eyes, and the shadowy garment, proved to be a slender man with an oddly still face and long, smooth hair to match his eyes.  He looked to be rather embarrassed.

_Well never mind that then.  Hmm, I think I **could** come up with something… some sort of cover for us, I suppose.  Let me work on it for a while…I'll have to go Out.  Don't worry now, _he added at the suddenly alarmed look on the Guardian's face, _I'll be incredibly careful of the uncle and the aunt.  I'll keep us disguised if we have to leave the Cupboard…not that that's very likely for a while.  I just have to figure out how to overlay a set of reactions, perhaps a transfiguration, now where could I find some potion ingredients?  No better not, replacements too damn difficult… _he trailed off, muttering disjointed phrases and some rather odd words under his breath.

Guardian gave him a rather confused glance, but then shrugged and turned back to the young child asleep in his arms.  *Ah, Harry don't worry… we'll figure out some way to get through this too…*

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More A/N:  Well… I may or may not have the next chapter still at the Dursley's.  It depends.  Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed!  I really appreciate it, as I know this is starting rather slowly.  I'm glad that people seem to be as interested in the idea of an MP Harry as I am.  Truthfully, it makes sense to me, even within the canon.  A multiple personality is, after all "the response of a creative mind seeking to escape the saturation of childhood terror and pain," all of which would certainly describe Harry and both his first encounter with Voldemort and his subsequent stay with the Dursley's.

This is a bit long… but I just have to say Thank You! to:

**AnaRae** – I'm awed that you've put me on your favorites list… I'll try to live up to that!

**Fireangle** – Did you really think I'd stop at three?  I can't tell yet how many there are… as I'm still debating when I'll post the character descriptions for all of them.  I'll just say there are many more people in there than three. J

**Melly-chan** – I know he acts a bit odd for his age… that has two reasons.  First, I'm not very familiar with how very young children act.  Second, and more related to the plot, he actually is a member of a group containing several much older people… as you just saw!

**Ami** – Thank you!

**Slashybubble** – Double whammy!  Thanks for the compliments… and I'm glad that it doesn't sound like a four-year old, as I'll be turning 23 this summer and probably can't write like a four-year old if I tried.

**Minamino** – Thank you very much.

**A **- What a lovely review!  Thank you ever so much, you were actually very helpful.  Well, except for the fact that I kept grinning inexplicably during work…  As for Harry's physical changes, did you know that happens even with real-life cases of multiple personalities?  They can even suffer from completely separate pains, have several present at the same drinking-binge and not all get drunk.  It's truly bizarre…

**Jacquie** – A curious one I see. J  Well, in the prologue you saw an immediate split, and if you caught it, that many of Harry's personalities were already dead when formed, and you just saw another one break… I'll also say that more are forming, and more will form in the future, as well as current ones fading.  

**Sevter** – I'll certainly continue… hopefully I'll be as convincing on paper as it is in my head.  And yes, he'll be sorted into Gryffindor.  There are many things that won't change, just be seen from a different angle.

**Kiri **– Glad to be your dream author!  Seriously though, thanks for reviewing, you were the first to do so on the second chapter, and I was completely shocked that anyone would review so soon.

**Anony mouse** – Thanks for the review! I hope the formatting works better now… I'm still learning this.  (just tried uploading it… and discovered some tags that were stripped… drat it anyway.)


	4. Cover the little children: Chapter Two

The Circle

By DraconicalPriest

Rating:  Still R, but for no particular reason in this chapter… unless sarcasm is seriously disturbing to you, anyway.

Pairings:  Currently nothing, unless some twisted person sees more than camaraderie between The Dark One and Guardian.  *shudder*  Can we say auto-eroticism, everyone?  Boy, that'd be weird…

Disclaimer:  I don't own Harry Potter, and I won't even lay claim to any of his personalities.  All I own is the effort it takes me to put this thing up, which is considerable.

A/N:  Well, I decided to stay at pretty much the same spot I left off.  I'm going to have one more chapter after this one set before Hogwarts, and then it'll be mostly according to canon, just seen from some different viewpoints.  Also, I apologize for having taken a while to update.  There are many reasons I didn't, all of them good (in my opinion, anyway) and most of them having to do with tax-day, but anyway I'm back, and I'll try to be posting more frequently from now on.

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**Cover the little children:  Chapter two**

            For the next several weeks, Harry was kept locked up in the cupboard while Vernon slowly calmed down again like a sputtering volcano after an explosion.  Every so often Petunia would fling open the door and shove some food at him, let him out briefly to use the bathroom, or throw some sponges and soapy water in and order him to clean the place up.  Each time she did so she was freshly unnerved, as the boy was again that black-eyed oddity which seemed to be mocking her with the silence of his face.

            In the bleak stillness of the cupboard, The Dark One plotted.  The pure challenge of this project had him nearly bubbling with a dark glee.  He'd never been faced with so difficult a problem before, and he was elated each time he figured out another tricky spot.  Every so often the body would shift its shape, the eyes flickering to a dull green or the hair lengthening, shortening, straightening, and coming back into a flyaway mess.  However, after about five days, The Dark One was almost ready to give up on the physical transfiguration of the Cover.  It was especially tricky since he couldn't just tie it into a specific shape.  He had to make a transfiguration that would not only remain unaffected when the others came to the Outside to run the body, but that would also grow with the child.  It could not be an illusion or simple glamour, since those would not fool all the senses at the same time and could often be seen through anyway, sometimes even by muggles.  Also, while The Dark One held a lot of knowledge about magic, he'd very rarely gotten a chance to practice any of it.  His latest attempt had been at the Cloak of Shadows glamourie which had so frightened the Dursley's, and he'd never even tried to transfigure something.  On the seventh day, he was approached by a rather nervous Guardian.

*Erm,* he eloquently began.  Guardian stood a short way from The Dark One, rather at a loss for words.  At that point, The Dark One was sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, going through a rapid-fire sequence of transformations.  Some of which looked rather more _real_ than they usually did, not shadowy at all, which again confused Guardian.  *Erm,* he repeated, then finally continued when The Dark One opened his eyes and looked up with the faintest hint of impatience fleeting over his face.  *What is it that you're doing now?  I mean, I thought you were going to figure out some kind of masky thing so Harry won't have to go out there again, but you're just sitting there practicing your shadow stuff and those odd transformations…*  He trailed off at the look on The Dark One's face, with a definite feeling of somehow having made an ass of himself.

The Dark One gave a long suffering sigh, then unfolded himself and walked over the dark plain to stand by Guardian.  _I am indeed working on a "masky thing", my dear Guardian.  _He said bitingly, _It is necessary that I practice these transfigurations in order to do so.  Stop and think a minute, will you?  What happens whenever one of us takes control of the body?_

_*_Well, that person is on the Outside.  The body…he's the one moving it, and in control of it…* Guardian again stumbled into silence, perfectly aware he was missing something, but not entirely sure what it was.  The Dark One tossed a sardonic look at him, then did another quick transformation, flicking through the images of a green-eyed messily black-haired five year old boy, to a sandy-haired blue-eyed girl, and then, to make his point perfectly clear, to Guardian's much taller figure, topped with his brown hair and gentle jade eyes.  

_Got the point yet? _He continued impatiently, without waiting for the Guardian to answer. _The physical changes when we pass custody of the body are really what's most noticeable to those tubs of lard out there.  We can't afford to let the body actually change whenever one of us is "moving it" as you say.  Therefore I need to work out a permanent transfiguration that will be connected to the _body _instead of the identity behind it.  This is made slightly more complicated by the fact that I can't just lock it into a certain appearance.  I have to figure out a way to make in unaffected by our changes, and yet still change as the body itself would grow and change.  It's slightly _tricky_, Guardian.  _He ended on a rather petulant note, obviously somewhat stuck for an answer himself, but too stubborn to ask for advice.  

*Hmm… well, if this transfiguration thing has to be something that's completely separate from our identities… isn't it basically just another one?  One who is always Out?  Would that work, to have him always be there, and not ever let anyone completely Out?*  Guardian offered this hesitantly, knowing that he really didn't know what he was talking about… but it made sense to him.

The Dark One's eyes widened briefly, and he even flashed a short smirk at Guardian.  _Why that might indeed work, Guardian!  I can't believe that I didn't think of that myself.  If I did make him into a true identity, albeit a shallow one, as I don't think I could manage much more… I suppose he should look as much like Harry as I can manage as well, of course.  Thank you, Guardian.  I need to work on this some more._ With that, he gave Guardian a firm look, in an obvious invitation for him to take himself elsewhere.  As a puzzled, but somewhat pleased Guardian turned to go, he added somewhat absentmindedly, _And I suppose that if he's got to be a separate identity, he'll need a name too.  I think we can just call him the Cover._

When The Dark One had finally gotten the physical transfiguration worked out, he also had to find a way to keep the Cover up and functioning even when none of the others were running it.  By the end of the second week he had created a sort of personality overlay, like a balloon that would keep the same surface over whatever filled it.  The Cover would be able to step back, to retreat from the forefront, when one of the others was let Out.  The Dark One finally set up a sort of "sleep" that would let this occur without too much trouble.  The Cover also had to be cheerful, innocuous, and very easy to get along with.  After this latest upset, the Dursley's would have to be soothed and reassured that Harry wasn't a real problem.  If they suspected that this magic stuff would happen often, neither The Dark One or Guardian had any doubts that they'd be out on the streets or in an orphanage before they could blink twice.  The Dark One had quickly realized that he couldn't be the one to control this.  He was often very distractible, especially by interesting new ideas for charms and spells.  Also, he knew that his sense of humor might get them in trouble, as it was rather…well, dark and twisted.  After another uncomfortable conversation with Guardian, his final solution would either automatically render whatever was said into a safer form or the Guardian would censor what actually was said or done.  

            The last and most difficult hitch in his creation was the memories.  The Cover simply could not depend on the memories of whomever was managing it at the time.  This would never work, as each held their own memories, none of which were complete, and the Dursley's would probably notice if Harry started fluctuating between remembering something one moment and not knowing it at all the next.  Also, if he was exposed to too much of the Dursley's abuse, such a shallow personality might very well break, which would bring them back to the same problem again.  When he reluctantly brought this quandary to Guardian, he found they were both stumped.  After a long, pondering silence, Guardian was suddenly struck by an idea.  

            *You said that he goes to "sleep" when the others are there, yes?  So, we can just have him do the same thing if the Dursley's start acting up again!  That would work.*  

            The Dark One looked at him skeptically.  _No, I don't think it would, actually.  If he just goes to sleep with no one there, it would be like he suddenly fell unconscious.  And I don't think any of us would want to be unconscious in the hands of an angry Vernon. That also wouldn't solve the problem of not having consistent memories._

            This time though, the Guardian remained confident.  *It will work!  There's another.  One that I don't believe you've ever met.  Who did you think kept the secrets now?  I can't any longer; I have to take care of the children.  I haven't been able to keep the secrets for them for a long time…and I don't remember how long.  But there is one who is still the Keeper of Secrets.  There always has to be one.  And Lavian is the one who takes those bad memories from us when they happen.  Lavian could do the same for the Cover.*  Oblivious to the shock on The Dark One's face, he continued cheerily, *As for the consistency, since you're already making him a separate person can't you give him a basic set of memories that he will keep even when alone?  He doesn't have to remember much, it's not like those idiots really care about what he thinks anyway.  As long as he remember how to act around them, he'll be all right, really.*

            Eventually The Dark One regained control of his face, and the shock faded from his expression, changing into calculation and an amused smirk.  _Once again, dear Guardian, your blazing intellect has astounded me.  That would indeed solve the problem… but why have I never heard of this Lavian before?  I know I am the oldest, I thought that I knew all of us.  Is he one of your childlings?  I'll have to meet him in order to set up the link for this transference from the Cover.  Where is he?_

Guardian was also trying to control his amusement.  His warm jade eyes twinkled suspiciously as he said *No, Lavian is certainly not one of my childlings.  I think you'll be rather surprised when you meet Lavian.  As to where he is, why, he's in the Circle of course, with all the rest of us.  He usually faces out though…and is a bit hard to see anyway.  Do you need to meet Lavian today, or are you planning to do so when you're actually ready with the Cover?*

            A bit peeved, The Dark One admitted _No, not today.  I want to be finished planning this.  I think actually setting the Cover up will require a bit of a ritual.  A spell, if you will.  We'll need to be out of the cupboard, and out from under the uncle's eye.  Until then, I can't really do much more than plan, and figure out exactly how it'll work.  As long as you're _sure_ this Lavian can take the memories from a Cover as well as the rest of us…it should work, though._

*I am sure.* Guardian replied, gently rocking the sleeping children in his arms.  *Now get to work.  I doubt we have too much more time before the uncle finally lets us out of here.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            A chance to set up the Cover didn't actually come until a whole month after Harry's birthday.  By that time, they were all getting a little twitchy, and feeling rather weak from hunger, as Petunia's offerings didn't come nearly often enough to suit a growing boy.  When Vernon finally let them out of the cupboard, he did so with several growled warnings to behave and not frighten Aunt Petunia.  After he had stormed off to work, Petunia set them down at the kitchen table and nervously prepared him a bit of eggs and toast before she shooed him outside, to weed the rose garden.  The Dark One gratefully sauntered over to the rose bed and set himself gingerly down in the midst of the fragrant blossoms.  He then closed his eyes, and stepped back into the Circle.

            _Guardian?  Are you ready for the spell to be cast? I need to see Lavian now, and Harry again. _

            Quiet steps seemed to echo as they approached him.  Then Guardian's voice drifted out from the darkness, an unusually somber cast to his normally cheerful baritone.  *We're here.  I've brought Lavian and Harry with me.  We're ready to begin, then?*

            _Yes.  Bring them nearer.  I need to see both of them in a minute. _  The Dark One then quickly stepped Out to check again that Petunia and Dudley were inside, and not paying any attention to them.

            _And so we begin._  He thought as a gentle wind began wrapping around them.  He began chanting softly and a gentle greenish light surrounded them, cloudily hiding them from view instead of illuminating them.  His obsidian eyes closed again as he stepped back into the circle, and the roses danced gently in the verdant wind.

            In the Circle, he stood again in front of the Guardian, who was holding a calm Harry, and a strange androgynous figure wrapped in a dark cloak which seemed to lose its shape near the edges and drift into the darkness.  A wailing voice came from it as they set up the Cover's link together.  ~_A Cover to save us.  A Cover to hide us.  I will keep thy secrets child, an thee keep mine.~  _Within the Circle they joined together in chanting, along with The Dark One, again sitting in the rosebushes:

            "_Occulto nos. Occulto nos in animus quod corpus.  Occulto nos."  _It repeated and echoed oddly around the roses, and when the chanting slowly died down, the wind also calmed and the light disappeared.  A sweet looking black-haired boy of about 5 sat there, his innocent green eyes shining in the sunlight like the bright leaves of the roses dancing on the breeze.

            "Harry!" called a voice from within the house, "come help clean up the dishes from breakfast now!"

            "I'm coming, Aunt Petunia!"  He yelled back cheerfully, and ran out of the rose bed, and back into the house at number four, Privet Drive.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N:  Well.  That was rather long…for me anyway.  I didn't want to put it up in two pieces again though, so I just hope you all like it.  It's also not beta-read, so I can only hope there aren't too many problems, I did check it over… but I probably have missed some.  The Latin is a rather rough translation…I took Greek in college, not Latin.  But basically it should be "Cover us.  Cover us in mind and body. Cover us."  

Thank you to all my reviewers!  A big thanks to npetrenko, Nemi, Fireangle, wild kat, sc, Jaded1, cat, 2|2si, melly-chan, Lexi-It changed, minamino, Ophite68, jujuben, AnaRae, and Tereth Dragonstar.  An extra big thanks, and a hug to Jaded1 and jujuben.  I'm still astounded that anyone likes my fic that much…you guys have completely bowled me over.  Now some answers to questions, and specific points:

Cat, you read my mind.  That is exactly when I plan to have things start to fall apart.  I admit I'm not happy with the prologue anymore…I wrote it before I'd really planned what I was going to do.  

Melly-chan and minamino, thanks for noticing the way they work together!  Mind you, they certainly don't all do so, but it's my opinion that Harry's personalities would be a lot more inclined to cooperation than bickering.  He just seems like that kind of person to me.

AnaRae, yes he does have female personalities.  In fact, we've already met one, very briefly.  The Dark One may seem somewhat Snapish (mostly because I adore the man, he's so delightfully evil!), but I'm not really trying to aim at a resemblance to anyone.  They are their own selves, though their characters are certainly influenced by his subconscious.

As to how many personalities there are… I'm not really telling.  Unless of course, you ask really nicely, seem genuinely interested and have cool suggestions, or write me a really nifty review.  *waves to Jaded1*

So, that's it for now.  When next I update, it'll be shortly before Harry gets his Hogwarts letter.  I'm looking forward to the Circle's reactions to that!  

Please review, I always appreciate advice and I adore compliments.  They make me tingly all over, and plant large grins on my face.


	5. Holding the Facade

The Circle 

By DraconicalPriest

Rating R: Because I like pirates… Arrrrr!

Pairings: Eventually, a long way down the road, someday… HP/SS. Maybe others. I'm very definite on this. Not.

A/N: I'm back from the grave. This is mostly the fault of Fate, whomsoever he/she/it is. Pestered me on each chapter to update, pretty please. Took a while. A LONG while, but it worked. So…apologies to anyone who was actually waiting on this, especially the aforementioned Fate and jaded1, she of the reviews I enjoyed so very much. This was originally an interlude chapter and very short. I didn't even put it in my outline, but I wanted to dwell a bit on this and that, and not just rush right on to Hogwarts.

Thanks also to ReginaLucifer and Megumi Muse. Those reviews are what kept this story from completely leaving my mind, given the change of residence, job, and life I'd been going through.

It took a lot to revamp my outline and personality profile (s) to fit the canon, since I last wrote after the Goblet of Fire. I've managed though, to take the revelations of books 5 and 6, and I think my plot is much sounder now. So expect more. Unlike last time, I know for sure where I'm heading and will get there soon. crosses fingers

Holding the Façade: Chapter 3 

The next few weeks after the Cover was created were tense ones for the Guardian and The Dark One. Would the new identity pass muster with the Dursley's? Would he function appropriately and protect the rest of the circle as he was planned? However, as they waited on tenterhooks for something to explode into chaos, it gradually became evident that nothing was going to happen. The Dursley's were perfectly happy to ignore the strange occurrences from the past, as long as they were never repeated. And if their nephew seemed a bit dimmer, and oddly cheerful for a child in his circumstance, that fact was never remarked upon. If he couldn't remember things sometimes, it was okay. Or if it wasn't okay, it was at least understandable, since the little freak was obviously a bit of an idiot as well.

As things settled down in the Dursley household, they also calmed somewhat inside the Circle. The Guardian and his little ones were content in the Green Place beside the Circle. The Dark One withdrew again to experiment with all the tricks he'd used in his endeavors to create the cover. Lavian kept his/her/its Secrets.

Whenever one of the circle was restless and needed to see Out, they could press up against the outside world from behind the comforting protection of the Cover. Like children peering through a frosted glass window, they could see, could act to some extent, but they were not seen. They were never allowed to act to the point of discovery. And Harry survived in this manner. Fractured, divided, and destroyed to the extent which they were… they still coped and worked surviving into a stable routine.

Years passed in this unsteady state. A few more identities were born and developed through necessity. After all, Vernon Dursley wasn't ever gentle with Harry, and the Circle had already found their strength in division, not endurance. Some of the children in Guardian's protection faded and left him. Some transformed or split, creating new children to fill the Circle.

One of the most shining of the new ones was Bird. Born when Harry was ten years old, he was the first of them born from joy…

The rain had whirled into Little Whinging like a possessed dervish. It flurried and settled impatiently, never falling for very long in one spot, only pausing to hurl it's staccato drumbeats like weapons against the houses and drenched backyards. Apparently the best words the weathercasters could find to describe it was "scattered showers possible today", which decidedly understated the case. This rain was as destructive and antsy as a two-year old on a double espresso.

Harry had been watching the roiling sky all morning. He was perched on a stool by the kitchen window, idly pressing his hand against the cool glass every so often and then scrubbing little squiggles in the fogged-up outline. Aunt Petunia had conscripted him for kitchen duty at breakfast, but that was now several hours ago and the Dursley's had just left to go out to lunch with an important client of Uncle Vernon's. They were going to a new French restaurant which Aunt Petunia had read about in one of her magazines. Evidently the chef was world famous, and the magazine had given his new business five stars. After lunch they'd planned to go to the mall and celebrate the new business with a little shopping spree for Duddleykins.

Of course, Harry couldn't go, as his freakishness might upset the client. Luckily for him, Mrs. Figg had gone on vacation, so the Dursley's had left him at the house, along with many dire warning of what they'd do to him if they got home and found a mess of any sort.

For a while now he'd been tempted to play with some of Dudley's toys. There was an almost new scooter in the second bedroom which only had the plastic grips on the handlebars broken. Dudley had thrown it at the garage door in a tantrum, and then when the handles broke he complained that the cracks pinched his hands. The scooter had been tossed on the junk heap in the second bedroom, and Petunia had gone out to buy another one very quickly, with rubber grips that wouldn't hurt her precious Duddleykins. Dudley never rode more than five minutes on either one, but Harry had gazed at them ardently. He could almost imagine the way it would feel to ride one, with the wind whipping his hair around his face, and the sidewalk zooming by underneath him.

He imagined that if he just rode the scooter a little bit, it might take off and fly, like that motorcycle he sometimes dreamed about. He be up there in the rain and the spitting drops and mistiness around the ground would keep anyone from looking up. He could fly for hours and hours! In his mind he could see the scooter, which was definitely taking on godlike qualities. It shone like a diamond, and was sleeker and more streamlined than any eagle. The red paint was more vivid than Petunia's prize roses, and not all scratched and covered with various logos. He could _see_ himself just zipping down the pavement, the wheels hissing as they sliced through the water on the macadam, then silent as he lifted off and soared away.

"Well, why don't I?" He suddenly mused aloud, his eyes beginning to twinkle mischievously. "I could just go for a bit. I'd be back before Aunt and Uncle. It wouldn't harm anyone. I'd just go down the block a bit and back up, just a very little ways." He was breathless and rather scared at the temerity of what he was about to attempt, but he couldn't find any objection that made enough sense to stop him. So he uncurled from the window seat, glanced around the kitchen nervously, and snuck up the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom. He'd organized it not too long ago, when Aunt Petunia got fed up with the mess in there, and so he knew exactly where that scooter was now. He quickly retrieved it from in front of the closet where the newest present, a shiny road bike with a twisted back tire, was displayed as well as the very old tricycle with the broken seat, and wheeled it out of the room. It was a struggle to keep the scooter from knocking into the banister or the steps as he came down the stairs, but he managed. In fact he managed to get it all the way to the front door before he thought again.

Like an echo of his aunt Petunia he whispered in sudden horror, "What if the neighbors see!" But on this gray day, several of the children of the Circle were pressed up against the Cover in boredom, and their curiosity and excitement overcame the programmed caution of the Cover. The children won, and Harry was soon zipping down the pavement. The thought had certainly registered in the Circle though, and all the neighbors saw was yet more mist and spitting rain, courtesy of the Dark One.

Wow! It felt just like he'd imagined! The wind was so fast, and the rain spitting down wasn't really cold, but more like the hard, fast, lukewarm shower in the upstairs bathroom. He was never allowed any truly hot water, to save on the gas bills of course, and so the hard rain was as refreshing to him as his relaxing start to a new day.

Harry tilted his head up and shrieked in pure joy. This flying feeling, this pure joy was the best thing he'd ever experienced. Simply the best, ever! While the scooter never left the ground, it still sped along, pushed by the wind and sliding slick along the sidewalk. He was lost in the sensations, in the pleasure of the speed, of the wind howling in his ears, and rain beating against his head and chest. He was dizzy with joy and played on the scooter until he was completely exhausted and soaked through from his head to his soggy trainers.

It was almost two hours later when the Cover regained his head and trudged back to the garage with the scooter. The Dursley's never spent more than a few hours at the mall. He'd have to get everything cleaned up before they were back. He sensibly took several hand towels from the pile left for clean-up after gardening and wiped himself down as well as possible so he wouldn't drip too much on his way through the house.

As Harry went through the motions of taking his clothes and towels to the dryer, himself to the bathroom for another towel to completely dry off, and back to the garage to clean up the scooter and wipe away any evidence of his fun, the Circle was welcoming in a new member. The sturdy young boy, looking surprisingly like the Cover, but well fed and tan, with laugh lines all over, ran around in circles in the Green Place beside the Circle, bounced around Guardian and swooped up a couple of the other young children into a game of tag.

Guardian watched him go with a complacent smile flitting over his face. **"Bird,"** he whispered, "**He'll be Bird. He is free and cheerful, like a lark in the morning. I could just see him fly."**

Beside him, the Dark One grunted in amusement at the man's sentiment. _I'm sure you can. In fact, I'm sure you will, in about a year. He is ten now, isn't he?>_

**"Yes, of course,"** replied Guardian, **"but what does that have to do with anything? We're not going to be leaving here until we're at least sixteen and legal to support ourselves. What's so special about eleven?"**

But no matter how he asked, or tried to trick the Dark One into answering, he got only laughter as a reply. Eventually Guardian gave up in a huff, and just watched Bird lead some of his childlings in some weird game up in the Green Place. At least they seem to be having fun he thought, and settled back with the younger ones as Bird played and the Cover tidied the house, awaiting the Dursley's return.

The Dark One also settled down into his place, and once again drew a veil of shadows around him as he reflected on the changes he knew would be coming. And coming faster than any one else in the Circle knew.


End file.
